


Identity Crisis

by NancyHartigan



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Any other warnings you might need you probably already know if you played Heavy Rain, Drabble, How Do I Tag, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Slight Crossover with Heavy Rain, introspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 18:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15006869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NancyHartigan/pseuds/NancyHartigan
Summary: Connor may have deviated, but there is something inside of him that remains, and he cannot shake it.





	Identity Crisis

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a very dear friend of mine who had a bad day. If you haven't played Heavy Rain, I highly recommend it.

The rain was among the only things in the world that bothered Connor.

He couldn’t quite explain it. Something in his programming seemed to be working faster, as if he didn’t have an infinite amount of time to get something done. It was a certain, unique pressure in his chest that didn’t make sense, as he didn’t suffer any shorts in the rain.

Markus seemed to bring out the worst in him, too. Something about the way the damn coat moves reminds him of an open trench coat and makes him feel like he is falling forever. In front of Markus, he felt every fault in his code made him irrational, little errors causing hiccups that made him want to drop the gun he was holding and fight him hand-to-hand. Even after he gave in and freed himself from his programming, those feelings remained. Markus chose actively to ditch the longer coats after they talked about it, and he was immediately more likeable.

He loved the way Hank looked in the shades he wore when the sun bore down on them in the spring and summer. The only thing that he loved more was when he’d take them off and he could see those icy blue eyes that he had hiding behind them. It made him want to stare into them forever and pull him closer so that he could kiss him, maybe more.

Connor never would, partially because he only knew what “more” was on an academic level, though he couldn’t help sometimes wondering what it’d be like to be on his back with Hank pulling his tie just a little bit too tight. He was sure, for some reason, it’d be euphoric, the closest feeling to a high that he’d be able to feel. Drugs would never work, even if he wanted to try them, because he knew that he’d enjoy the rush that he would get if he had the organs for them to damage.

Detective Reed reminded him of somebody, but he couldn’t quite place it. The way he jumped to conclusions, the biting remarks, but never doing anything that anybody could prove. It irritated him that he was getting away with practically murder, and nothing was going to be done. The sardonic “call the police” the last time that Hank threatened to clock him made Connor freeze and need a reboot before he could continue working. He pretended not to remember it, but he did.

He loved the vibration of piano keys underneath his fingertips and the fall and aquariums that were landscaped to look like a full underwater scene. He loved the feeling he got from overlooking a cliff, he wished he could move his damn desk on top of one and just take in the feeling of complete isolation from the distractions that a crowded office made. The feeling of taking a breath to completely crisp, clean air filling every single sense.

Connor loved a lot of things, and he hated a lot of things.

He just can’t understand why.


End file.
